Jericho III
by Octane
Summary: A teenage boy trys to escape a doomed planet. Story is better than summary! Chapter 11 is up! Hell yea, I'm back in business people!
1. Chapter I

**Jericho III**

Prologue: 

_Jericho III was discovered almost a decade before Jericho IV, but not many people cared about the small outer colony of 9.8 million people. The planet's defense system consisted of 4 destroyers and a lone MAC platform. Other than its 500,000 person military, the rest of Jericho III's population consisted of 97 percent farmers and their children and 3 percent other. Carol lived with his grandparents on the farm for the last 2 and a half standard years. His dad had been in the Marines when the war started and was killed on Harvest; his mom died when she resisted a mugger and was shot. After that child services moved him to Jericho III to live with his aging grandparents. _

Chapter I: 

Working in the fields on his grandfather's farm, Carol was tired. He had always disliked his name, it was generally a girl's name, but his dad had said it was the name of a famous racer or something way back in the 20th century, but he'd looked it up: the racer's name was spelled Carroll; it was like the difference between Jesse and Jessie. Now, though, he concentrated on checking for bugs and weeds; there were scanners to do it, but those scanners were over a million dollars a piece, and his grandfather believed a human eye did a better job. It had taken him longer than expected, the summer sun, not too different from Earth's, had grown large, and painted the sky a beautiful canvas of pinks, reds, oranges, and purples.

For just a brief second, something dimmed the sun, more so than a cloud, an air wave washed over the stalks of corn, and a very faint thrumming was heard. Something in his stomach sank, like he'd swallowed rocks, truly the happening could have been his imagination, or a UNSC ship, but something, some sixth sense, gave him a feeling that something was terribly wrong.

He glanced up to see the dull purple hull and bright blue engines of a Covenant Corvette. Then, out of nowhere, two UNSC destroyers, half the defense force, comes up along side the Covenant vessel; fire their MAC cannons within a 10th of a second of the other. The Covenant's shields glow blue, then violet and then white, then dissipate into a thousand sparks along the hull of the ship. The second MAC round tears at the aft of the Covenant ship; the reactors in the engines explode brilliant greens, blues, reds, and off whites. Dropping from about 4,000 meters the Corvette gained momentum and just as it disappeared beyond the horizon, a shock wave coursed through the ground, strong enough to knock Carol's stout, tall figure over, and to shake premature corn off the stalks.

Carol got back up and started running towards the farmhouse; hoping that his grandfather would know what to do.


	2. Chapter II

Chapter II: 

Carol was panting when he banged on the door of the farmhouse. His white-haired grandmother opened the door and called for her husband. Carol's strong, fat and bald grandfather appeared, silently treading on the squeaky boards.

"What are you still doing here?" His grandpa said in an especially gruff voice.

"I kind of hope you can tell me what to do." Carol reluctantly said.

"You know to go to Hoffman Air Force Base if any thing like this ever happens!"

"Yea, I don't know, I guess I just…"

"Shut up. Since you're here I'll help you out."

His grandfather silently walked off and about a minute later returned holding a shotgun, some shells, and a .357 caliber revolver, and a belt to hold the revolver in.

"This is a pack of slugs, this is double ought buck, this is #4 birdshot." His grandfather said as he was handing him boxes of shotgun shells.

"This is a Mossberg 535 ATS 12 gauge shotgun; it has been passed down through the years, it is almost over 500 years old, but it still works. So handle it with care, and I want you to be able to pass it on to your children, so you best damn not die. This is a much newer model, a .357 magnum and an ammo belt and holster."

"What the hell do you expect him to run into?!" His grandmother exclaimed.

"It's an invasion Margaret; he'll surely run into something."

"What will you two do?" Carol breathed.

"Well, you grandmother and I decided that if you came we would stay here because we'd just slow you down. And, were both almost 80 years old, we've lived a full life. If the planet isn't glassed we'll stay around and live out the rest of our life in peace, sell the farm, retire rich and will our money to you. If they do, then we'll die happy. And here you go."

His grand father handed him a small plastic card, and told him it was linked to their account, with all of last year's crop profits in it, almost a hundred thousand dollars.

"Now go, get away from here; go to Reach, or Earth, or Mars; one of the inner colonies, get away from all this."


	3. Chapter III

Chapter III:

Carol ran to the car, no one really drove any more, cars mostly ran on hydrogen, electricity, or mixtures of hydrocarbon chains, and they all used GPS systems to compute voice commands to tell them where to go, though they did have manual overrides. So after scanning his fingerprint to unlock the door Carol told the car to go to Hoffmann Air Force Base, and it started to move.

After about 20 kilometers, Carol was getting to the outskirts of the ironically named city of "Cornrow" and he saw a house that looked like it was broken into. He realized he knew the residents of the house: the Upson family, namely their daughter June. After his parents died, and he found out that his dad and his mom, who had been carrying his soon-to-be-born little brother, were both dead, Carol had pretty much killed off his emotions. But, June, sweet, beautiful, June, was the only person who could make him feel anything, he didn't know how, but she just did.

"Stop, stop, stop!" Carol screamed at the car. The car quickly responded.

Carol hastily loaded the shotgun with double ought buck. He threw the door open as fast as he could, and sprinted, the shotgun in his hands and the magnum plopping against his thigh, to the opened front door of the off white house. He ran through the opening expecting no resistance, but suddenly green blobs whined by his head. Carol dove back through the door way cursing what ever had shot at him, and slammed up against the left side of the door way.

He crouched and looked around the door way at the same time; he looked carefully around the dusty house, pitch dark, save where the sunbeams came in through the windows. He saw nothing.

"Get out here you alien son-of-a-bitch!" Carol called into the house.

"Who say that?" One grunt asked

"You ask me like I know!" The other responded.

"Well, do ya."

"Stupid."

"OK, maybe I go see."

Carol heard the faint plopping of a Grunt's feet along the hardwood floor. He buried the butt of the shotgun deeper in his shoulder, he'd been hunting, he'd shot hundreds of rounds and about a dozen guns, but this was different. He tried not to shake, he made sure the safety was off, and got ready to pull the trigger. He controlled his breathing as the foot steps got closer and closer, until he could make out a shape, something triangular, with legs and scrawny arms, he pulled the trigger and the shotgun punched him in the shoulder, and the Grunt spun around and landed in a pool of blue blood with a wet splat.

Carol pulled back the pump on his shotgun and a red plastic shell, with gleaming brass on the end, flew out of the chamber and did lazy circles until it hit the ground with a hallow thud.

Finger on the trigger, crouched down, each step silent as the last, he moved in. Carol was listening carefully for any signs of the other Grunt, barely breathing, worried that any noise could prevent him from hearing the creature.

"You OK?" the Grunt called to his lifeless brother, "What that noise was?"

Carol snickered. The Grunt had revealed itself; Carol swung left; and fired once. And the Grunt let out a jumbled up scream. It wasn't dead; he could still hear its frantic gasps for life. Not taking any chances, Carol sat down the shotgun and un-holstered the magnum, He took careful aim just above the pool of fluorescent blue blood, and fired three times. It was an odd feeling, he'd fired hand guns before, but the magnum had a kick to it, different, more commanding in someway. He put away the magnum and picked up his shotgun. He looked at the lead filled body as he walked toward the back of the house; it was strangely disturbing to feel nothing at killing the thing, he'd even felt remorse hunting the transplanted deer and elk with his grandfather, but now, he felt…empty.

As he got closer to the back of the house he put his back up to a corner, and peered around, movement, something larger. Could it be one of those big aliens Carol had heard about, the ones with reactive armor, he hoped not. It was not an especially smart of tactically sound move, but Carol called to the shadow:

"Hello, are you human or alien? Hello…anyone, uuh, thing back there?"

"Yea, what the hell do you want?" And are you human or alien?" A soft female voice returned.

"June, is that you?"

"Yea, lemme guess, your Carol?"

"Right."

"Thank god, a friendly face."


	4. Chapter IV

Chapter IV

At they walked to the car outside Carol and June discussed what had happened; they'd both heard of the Covenant glassing planets, but neither of them knew what was going on here, it all made little sense. The aliens had landed but destroyed no part of the planet; they were killing humans, but not glassing the planet, something wasn't right, but they dare not question it too much; had this been a normal glassing they'd both be dead.

"Resume course." Carol told the car as he and June got back in. "Where's the rest of your family?"

"My parents went to Cornrow to get some stuff for the crops, fertilizers, and pesticides, I think. And my brother is over at Jeff's house" June answered.

"Jeff Jenkins?"

"Yea. Wait, if they came to my house do you think they went there, should we go try to find him?" June said with a hint of panic in her voice."

"No, as far as we know we are on a limited timeline; we may have days, we may have hours; we may have minutes; but the Jenkins's place is back away from where we are by 40 kilometers, we just don't have time. Knowing Kyle, he has a plan."

"I hope so."

The rest of the 10 kilometer journey was silent except the quiet humming of the electric engine. As they approached the edge of the city they noticed a Marine standing outside at a makeshift roadblock. He was holding a MA5K assault rifle; in the background stood the tall towers of central Cornrow, Jericho III's only true urban center of, none the less it only consisted of about 200,000 people. Behind that shone the lingering hints of the sun, the last rays that dare to hold off the impending night.

"Stop." Carol said to the car as they approached the Marine.

The Marine knocked at the window. Carol could have verbally commanded the car to lower the window, but he opted to press the manual button.

"Got some ID?" The Marine asked.

"Why?" Carol numbly responded.

"First: we don't know if these aliens can disguise themselves and second: we want to keep track of who gets off the planet;" said confidently, but as he uttered the last word his voice fell almost to a whisper, "have an accurate body count."

As Carol dug for his wallet and June used the cars interweb access to get on to a Government run, secure site that held all the identities for people of Jericho III; it was considered as good as hard copy identification. The Marines radio made a muffled noise in his pocket.

"Hold on a sec," the Marine said to the pair in the car; he turned to his radio, "This is Corporal Dylan Colt, please repeat that last message."

"This is recon/sniper team Foxtrot, there are mid sized, U-shaped aircraft headed your toward Cornrow; appear to be of a drop ship/troop deployment type. Cannot confirm, but it appears that some of the aircraft are carrying vehicles, some are very large and could be some kind of tank." The radio voice was calm and clear, but hid undertones of worry and fear.

As if on cue, a U-shaped, dull purple vessel cut through the sky just as the last ray of the evening sun vanished over the horizon. Behind them, one of the drop ships sat down a tank, which hurled a ball of glowing blue plasma toward the roadblock. Carol couldn't react before the explosion and overpressure began to destroy the world around him, and his vision went black.


	5. Chapter V

Chapter V

Carol dreamt of fireworks going off at sunrise; he knew it was a dream, but it felt so visceral, like when you have a dream where you fall. It was all blurred, and the fire works were hard to see because of the rising sun, but they were numerous and easy to hear. His dream was suddenly cut short by a yell, something that sounded like "Woot, Woot, Woot! Carol sat up. He felt for his shotgun, but it was no where to be found. Then he realized he could not see the source of the yell, had it been his dream? As he observed, at he realized that he was still in his dream; the orange sunrise to his front and the noisy, but invisible fireworks; wait though, the sky was dark to his back, dark like night, wait; he looked back to the 'sun' it was no sun at all, Cornrow was burning bright red, orange, and yellow flames, the 'fireworks' were gunfire and plasma.

He stood up on his feet. The car was flipped over; the two warthogs that had been sitting up ahead a few meters were completely erased. Wait, the car, June! Carol sprinted over to it, and looked under: the windows were broken out and the interior was smashed, but June lie there on the roof with what looked like only mild cuts and bruises, hopefully nothing was broken. He pulled her arms and pulled her out on to the road.

"June, June; wake up." Carol called.

June lazily opened her hard, brown eyes and moaned, then fell back unconscious. She was alive, but Carol could not tell how long she would stay that way. Carol replayed the last moments he remembered back in his mind; where was the Corporal? He looked around and soon found a body lying nearby, covered in dust. He shook the body.

"What in the hell happened?" Colt asked.

"All I know is that somethin' blew up." Carol responded.

"Well ain't you fuckin' Sherlock Holmes?"

"Do you know anything about medicine?" Carol said blatantly and intentionally ignoring the insult.

"I'm not a medic; what, you hurt?"

"No, I think she is, maybe internal bleeding?"

"Sounds like you know more about it than I do."

"Dammit. Well, what should we do?"

"Fall back to HAFB. Maybe get the hell out of here while we still can."

"That was why I was here in the first place; you think HAFB is still OK?

"I'll check on the radio." The Marine searched for his radio, but he found that it was missing; probably destroyed in the explosion. "Dammit, we need that radio; it was our link to Grant and Perez."

"Who?"

"Team Foxtrot. My two recon guys, they're the ones who called about those drop ships."

"Yea, a dollar short and a day late."

"Shut up! They'd of provided cover for us; you should see either of those two with a rifle!"

"Whatever, we can't worry about them too much; we've got our asses to save. I say the best route would be through Old Town; judging by the flames I'd say the aliens are least dense there. Then we cut through Ivanhoe's soybean field and we're at the southeast gate of Hoffman."

"Damn; sounds like a plan to me. I'm not even from around here; they shipped me down form the MAC platform when they noticed the Covenant ground forces were landing on the planet."

"Well, sounds like we need to get moving." Carol said ending the conversation.

Carol glanced as Colt looked around for an assault rifle; then Carol began to look for his shotgun. After about five minutes he'd found nothing, then the found an oval shaped metal plate stamped with the word 'MOSSBERG.' Carol swore all kinds of curses to the Covenant under his breath. That shotgun had held memories of his extended family, and his father had used it once on a hunting trip that he'd taken Carol on; one of the last memories he had of his father. He clutched the plate in his fist then put it in his right front pocket of his jeans.

"Take this." Colt said to Carol; handing him a M7 submachine gun. "I thought you'd need something other than your magnum." Colt continued reading Carol's facial expressions before they became vocalized questions.

"OK…" That was all Carol could think of to say.

He looked over the new weapon. It was different than anything he'd ever shot. He fired rifles, shotguns and pistols, but never anything fully automatic.

"Grab your girl, come on, we should move now."

Carol shook off the shock and picked up June, luckily she was pretty light about 55 kilograms, and from his work in the fields, Carol was quite strong. So he slung her limp body over his left shoulder and held the M7 in his right hand.


	6. Chapter VI

Chapter VI

"Stop." Colt said. "Look ahead about a hundred meters, a little to the left."

Carol looked in the general direction which Colt had indicated. There were two massive purple blobs with orange spots and arms and legs.

"We'll have to go around." Colt said.

"Agreed." Carol said, not totally sure of what they were, but they looked like they were walking tanks. So they marched around the side of buildings, and down ally ways, but they were surprised by what they saw: a girl in her early teens was armed with a M6D pistol and her apparently golden hair was colored partly red with her blood and partly blue with the blood of Covenant. Her oversized sweater read "Missouri State" Carol wondered what that was. He deiced that it must be something in the United States on Earth.

Carol looked in to her grey-green eyes and felt away. It was a strange feeling, it just took him away from here; she got the same feeling as well. It was an awkward moment when they realized how much they were looking into each other's eyes; especially with Carol carrying June on his shoulder. He laid the unconscious body down.

"Who are you?" He asked the girl in the sweater.

"Dakota. Who the hell are you?" She said in a tone of mixed compassion and contempt.

"Carol Ryans." Carol paused for a half second, "What's Missouri State?"

"A college…on Earth…my cousin goes there."

"OK." Carol said feeling somewhat enlightened. Carol glanced over her when she turned her head: black combat boots, military issue camouflage pants, a sweater from a college several billion kilometers away, a pistol and she was stained with the blood of the enemy; not to mention those weird eyes, hard and soft at the same time. What was she about? But he knew that may well be a question one could spend the rest of their life figuring out.

"Cut the small talk; we got company." The Corporal cut in.

Dakota peeked around the corner. "No kidding." She said sounding out of place in a combat situation, but the blood on her told otherwise. "I've only got a mag left." She told Colt.

Silently, Colt handed her two clips of M6D ammo. She placed them in the appropriate spots in her camouflage pants. Finally, Carol peered around the corner much the same as Dakota had done; he saw one red armored Elite, a pair of Jackals, and a handful of Grunts. Behind him he heard June moan the kind of moan someone makes when there first waking up. Happy to see that she was OK, Carol rushed over to her.

"What happened, where am I?" She asked in a confused tone.

Carol did his best to recount the events of the last few hours as quickly as he could. He was cut short by the ringing out of plasma fire and the rattle of gunfire. He handed June the magnum he had, hoping that she had some idea how to use it. He recalled what the Dylan had told him about the M7 while they were walking through the city, and flipped off the safety. Bracing the butt of the weapon against his shoulder, he turned around the corner and, as Marines say, 'turned on the bullet hose.'

It was perfect conditions for the M7, close-medium range and targets close together. Despite that the weapon emptied the 60 round magazine in less than a half second, Carol felt every round leave the weapon; each time was another punch in the shoulder. But he was pleased with his results: all but one of the Grunts was dead and a Jackal was injured. As he reloaded, the Corporal repeated an action with his MA5B and finished off the injured Jackal and the last Grunt. But Carol had not been fast enough with the reload, June and Dakota laid some suppressing fire with the pistols, but the pistols were ineffective against the Elite and the Jackal hiding behind its shield. A barrage of plasma fire returned, the wall began to stink as it began to melt from the heat.

Carol picked up on the blue flash as the Elite tossed a plasma grenade. At the same time the Jackal moved back to avoid the blast radius; Dakota sensed this and fired at the Jackal's direction. The semi-explosive round ripped into the alien's leg and caused it to fall and scream in pain. However, when the Jackal side stepped it blocked the grenade. The Jackal was nearly vaporized and the Elite's shields were drained. The Corporal swung around and just as he was about to pull the trigger, he realized the Elite was gone. They knew it was not dead because it had yelled out after the explosion.

* * *

Authors Notes:

Please ignore the comment by Flame Rising. I realized by reviewing his profile that he is a hypocritical looser. I have sent him a message stating this. But he chooses how he spends his free time.

On more important matters: This is Chapter 6, so far. I may extend it when I put up 7, I may just put up 7. I will decide that later. Either way hope to expect another chapter by the weekend.

Also, as long as my a/n reads that you can submit a character you can.

Constructive reviews are welcome. Also I know its short right now, and it is not going to be the longest fanfiction ever, but what I really made this for is a Halo community fanfiction. I want any and all who might want to featured in this fanfiction to submit a description of what they want their character to be and what its name will be in a review. I will work them in as I see fit. Also: I reserve the right to kill off your character at any time. Its not any thing personal, this shouldn't come as too much of a spoiler, but this is about the destruction of a planet; people are gona die, but not everyone...will you one of the lucky ones?

PS: You can submit more than one character, but try to keep it fewer than four per person, and you can just make up a character or you can submit one from a fanfic of your own.


	7. Chapter VII

Chapter VII

The four moved up the alley, looking for any signs of movement. It was all quiet, too quiet. Something was hiding. Blue plasma fire rang out from behind them, seemingly coming from mid air.

"Shoot it!" Colt screamed. Shots rang out, it was dark and confusing; each muzzle flash was blinding to the groups eyes that were dilated to the dark. The blue blobs of fire still singed the walls around them, someone yelled out in pain. Carol fired blindly in the general direction of the plasma; he got lucky and exposed his antagonist for just a second. That was just long enough for Dakota to let loose a trio of rounds from the M6D into the beast's brain.

"Everybody OK?" Dakota asked. Carol and Colt responded with grunts, but that acknowledged that they understood the question. But June never responded.

"June, where are you?" Carol called in the darkness.

"Here." June said with what sounded like a lot of effort. Carol hopped over to here position and knelt by her.

"What's wrong?" Carol asked cradling her head in his hands, her light brown hair was slick with blood, and it was singed in some places from the heat of the plasma. Carol waited a few seconds and June didn't respond. "Damn it does somebody have a damn light?" Carol yelled at the others.

"Mine's dead." The Corporal explained.

Dakota rummaged through the pockets of her combat pants and soon pulled out a small LED flashlight and turned it on and shined it on June. The gore it revealed was sickening: she'd been hit several times in the abdomen with plasma bolts, blood was everywhere and her breathing was irregular. Colt pulled a can of bio-foam and sprayed it at the places she was most bleeding. She winced from the sting. Fighting the pain she said, "Carol, I loved you back; I knew you always loved me, and I've always been afraid to admit it, but I always loved you back."

"Then hold on, just hold on. We'll get help." Carol said looking into her muddy colored eyes.

"No, I can't." She pulled him closer until they met lips. It was a loving kiss, not especially long or romantic, but it said 'I will always love you.' Carol's hand was on her neck and he felt when her last pulse passed, and then there was nothing. For what seemed like hours he knelt there looking at the one he had loved lying dead in a pool of blood.

"Everyone I love dies! And it's all those god damn aliens fault!" He screamed getting up and kicking the dead Elite. He sobbed for a second; and took a deep breath. "We've got to get going." He said covering up his sadness. Dakota and Colt turned and started walking, Carol began to walk as well, but he knelt at June's body and unclasped her braided silver necklace and put it in his jeans pocket with the 'MOSSBERG' plate.

"It'll be OK, I know what it's like to loose someone you love." Dakota comforted him. He glanced into her green eyes, and then glanced away.

* * *

Authors Notes:

Sorry it took so long. I got over writers block on my other story and I got it on this one. Not to mention my work on the misadventures of Flame Rising and the Master Chief see my profile But here it is and I'm on a roll so I figure Chapter 8 by Sunday or earlier.

Reviews are welcome. Also I know its short right now, and it is not going to be the longest fanfiction ever, but what I really made this for is a Halo community fanfiction. I want any and all who might want to featured in this fanfiction to submit a description of what they want their character to be and what its name will be in a review. I will work them in as I see fit. Also: I reserve the right to kill off your character at any time. Its not any thing personal, this shouldn't come as too much of a spoiler, but this is about the destruction of a planet; people are gona die, but not everyone...will you one of the lucky ones?


	8. Chapter VIII

Chapter VIII

It wasn't much of a walk before they group came up on the outskirts of town, on the outskirts laid some of the cities most interesting places: A public observatory, a small skating rink, several fine restaurants, a hologram theatre, and what the Covenant seemed most interested in: a large museum of natural history. From their point of view it looked as if there were dozens of Covenant standing at the door; it also seemed like they were looking for something. They were hidden in a hedge type bush, taking turns peering through the 2x scope on Dakota's M6D pistol. Suddenly to their left someone or thing made a rustling noise, they all turned to see that it was a Marine.

"Who are…" The Colt began.

"Sush! The other Marine cut him off. "We've set up a temporary camp about fifty meters east of here. We're planning an assault." The newcomer said in a whisper that was barely audible. As they got up Carol glanced at the name patch on his uniform, it read "RUIZ" His steps across the pavement and grassy areas were all the same: silent. As Carol watched him he figured that he must be spec ops or something, the way he moved was so swift and silent. Odd though, his uniform bore no insignia which indicated a very low rank, Private 2nd class.

It was not a long walk, as Ruiz had said, about 50 meters, the camp was hidden in a mostly destroyed building. Ruiz knocked on the door in a certain rhythm, and more knocks came from the other side, Ruiz knocked twice more, then the door opened. There was a male soldier. He immediately recognized Colt. "Damn, Dylan, when the radio went dead I thought you were dead." The Marine at the door said. The Marine had a sniper rifle slung over his back and he held a MA5K assault rifle in his hands.

"Rusty, I thought the same about you." Colt said. Carol figured that this must be a member of Bravo team that Colt had talked about when they had first met. It had only been hours ago, but that event seemed years in the past. "What happened to Perez?" Dylan continued as the color on his face faded.

"He didn't make it. One of those fliers, a Banshee, swooped down and fired green blobs at us. They exploded and got Perez good. I did my best; I carried him all the way here while he was unconscious. But, with the amounts of radiation he was exposed to when that thing went off, and the lack of full medical care, it was only a matter of time." Russell said in a quiet tone.

"Yea…" Carol could tell that Colt was trying to think of more to say but he just couldn't.

"Well, come on in." Grant said trying to put the loss behind him. They all walked in the basement of the destroyed building. It was a dusty place, it smelled a little of mold. Half a dozen people sat around on several couches and on the floor. The room was pretty small, it used to be larger but it appeared that the ceiling had collapsed on the far side of the room. The faces on the people were down, sad, they had all lost something. They barely acknowledged the groups' entry.

One man seemed to want to lift up the group's spirits; he wore a cowboy hat and was just finishing a cigar. He wore a dirty and bloody officer's uniform with a patch that read "WILLIAMS" however he soon introduced himself as "Young Buck" but said that he didn't mind just "Buck." The fact that he had not changed into combat gear meant that he'd never seen the attack coming. He had a very deep Texan accent. As they talked Carol was very surprised to find out that he had actually lived in Texas when he was young. His dad had moved them all to Jericho III when it was first discovered and his dad thought that if he brought enough land he could make a big profit on it. His dad had been wrong. Jericho III was on the border between the outer and inner colonies, but everyone treated it like an outer colony. So his family had eventually gone into a farming business, and he had decided to join the defense force.

Carol spoke to several of the others sitting around the basement, though about half of them did not want to talk; the others were willing to confide in him a little. One person he talked to was a girl who could not stand to be called her full name. She got mad if you called her "Stephanie" and not "Steph" but she would tolerate "Stephy" but she preferred the former most of all.

Grant and Ruiz seemed to be the leaders here. They had planned an elaborate assault to get past the small army of Covenant at the museum. Reconnaissance of the aliens had told them that they had been looking for one crystalline rock; it was clear with hints of reds and pinks streaked though out it. It was thought to be some kind of memory crystal that had never been scanned. However the Covenant had apparently deemed it too important to simply transport and they were waiting on an escort to take the stone to one of the ships above the planet.

Grant did all the talking Ruiz was very quiet; he just stood there with MA5B in hand. "How are you sure of all this?" Carol asked when Russell was finished.

"Well, I point my Oracle scope at the conversation between the aliens and turn on the laser microphone on it, the Oracle scope is linked to that laptop over there," Grant explained pointing to the device, "and that laptop is loaded with the latest translation software. Simple as that." There was a series of shrugs and grunts as he finished up.

He then changed topics to the actual assault. When the escort came down to retrieve the crystal they'd destroy it with a rocket launcher. He hoped to recover the crystal if he could, but if not, better destroyed then in the hands of the Covenant.

Once everyone was clear on the plan Carol and Dakota were sitting together in a corner of the room. They were kind of the out casts. Most of the other people were Marines or in the defense force somehow, and the rest were too traumatized or were too shy to talk. "When you said you knew what it was like to loose someone you love, what did you mean?" Carol asked Dakota.

"What?" Dakota asked in a slightly surprised tone. Thought they both spoke quietly, their conversation was masked by the sound of a Texas Hold 'em game that the Marines had started to pass the time. Ruiz sat at the window watching for the escort.

"When," Carol winced, "June died, and we were walking away, you said…"

"Oh, yea." Dakota recollected, "Do you know what happened on Jericho VII?"

"I remember reading about it; I mean I wasn't there…"

"I was." Dakota interrupted. "We were evacuating, running away. My mom, my little sister, and me, my dad had always been distant and he was deployed in the Navy, I live with him now, we're temporally stationed on Jericho III. We were so close to getting away, together, all of us, but then…"

"Then what?" Carol said knowing he was being a little cruel to make her tell, but also knowing that if she could get it out she'd feel better. He could tell she'd never talked about this before.

"They killed them. They just did it, pulled the triggers and killed them. Blood went everywhere, and I just ran away from it all."

"You've been running ever since." Carol said conclusively.

"Maybe I have…" Dakota trailed off.

"I know I have. My dad died on Harvest, as far as I know he was just killed by the Covenant. We had his funeral back home on Earth IX. One day my mom was going to get flowers to put on his grave, and some thug thought that she looked rich and shot her, she was pregnant too, I was gona be a big brother in eight months. He only got 40 bucks, but he got away. He is still free to the best of my knowledge. That's when Child Services sent me to Jericho III. They tried to give me counseling but I just refused most of it."

They both sighed. Dakota had been sitting cross-legged; after they were done exchanging sob stories she put her legs out straight and slouched a little bit. Her right hand was resting, palm down, on her thigh, but then she let it fall, as naturally as she could, to the floor, turning it palm up along the way. Carol knew the gesture had been passive and intentional, a test of sorts; but he understood it. He placed his large, long-fingered hand in to her comparatively small one; at first he just rested it there, then at the same time their grip tightened on each other's. Dakota laid her head on Carol's shoulder, her hair that would have normally fallen in many directions and been strawberry blond and silky soft was caked with blood, fell in clumps, and was mostly red-black, with a few spots of purple and blue from Covenant blood, because of the drying blood. Carol ignored all the blood and laid his cheek on top of her head. And they sat there, saying so much, in absolute silence.

The Texas hold 'em game had wound down, and the Marines were dishing out night watches to each other. What Carol presumed to be Mendez's body was sitting near the door covered in a bloody sheet. Ruiz still sat statuesque with the S2 rifle, looking out the window onto the Covenant position. Just as the night watch orders were being concluded, Ruiz finally had something to say. "Guys, I think the escort has arrived."

* * *

Authors Notes:

Because I heard it thought the grapevine I'm not sure if it's true but I figure better safe than sorry. So Disclaimer: The only thing of this story I own is Carol, June, and Carol's family. You see, I've read a couple stories that said Bungie ninjas lurk around here. Dunno how they'd get on to me, but once again: better safe than sorry.

Reviews are welcome. What I really made this for is a Halo community fanfiction. I want any and all who might want to featured in this fanfiction to submit a description of what they want their character to be and what its name will be in a review. I will work them in as I see fit. Also: I reserve the right to kill off your character at any time. Its not any thing personal, this shouldn't come as too much of a spoiler, but this is about the destruction of a planet; people are gona die, but not everyone...will you one of the lucky ones?


	9. Chapter IX

Chapter IX

"Irene, get over here with that rocket launcher!" Russell called after looking out the window of the basement. Irene came over carefully maneuvering the bulky rocked launcher though the cramped space as Ruiz and his sniper rifle moved away. She let the launcher rest on the ledge of the window and she looked into the 2x scope.

"Well, looks like we got a Seraph fighter as the main escort and four banshees on its wing." She said analyzing the situation. "We've only got six rockets, if _everything_ goes right I can take it all out, but that doesn't account for additional air support that may show up."

"Shity situation, but we knew it'd be that way." Russell said conclusively. "We've gone over this, Irene, fire on my mark; everybody else: take up your positions."

Carol knew what was happening; he and most of the others ran out and stuck to the shadows. They were waiting for the rockets to blaze out from Irene's rocket launcher. She'd fire six rockets, and then they'd make a break for Hoffman Air Force Base. It was almost 200 meters away, normally not too far, but now, it was full of Covenant. He and everyone laid down prone, ready to go, except for the two snipers, all hidden, lost to the normal eye; they'd fire directly after Irene, and then continue firing until the fight was over.

Carol knew this was not a winning or losing situation; it was a situation of survival.

By any clock, only 52 seconds passed from the time Carol laid prone and got ready to fight and likely die to the time Irene fired the first rocket, but it seemed more like five hours. The rockets broke the beautiful, innocent, frightening silence. Echoes reverberated so loudly from the first rocket's explosion the rest were indistinguishable.

Once the echoes stopped everyone jumped up from a prone position to running toward the museum and ultimately the air force base. Suddenly, as he sprinted, M7 aimed out in front of him, magnum at his side, Carol had a thought back to a history lesson he'd once learned about a war called World War II while he was in school. A small fray compared to some of the rebel activity and the Covenant invasions, but it still had relevance nearly 600 years later. He remembered the names of some tactics of the enemies in that war: the Blitzkrieg and the Kamikaze. The Blitzkrieg was a way of rushing, surprising, and overpowering your enemy to reach your objective; while the Kamikaze was a last ditch effort carried out by self sacrifice to try and help your cause. And he wondered: was their little attack on the museum a Blitzkrieg or were they just a bunch of Kamikazes?

* * *

Authors Notes:

Sorry it's a short chapter. Especially sorry for the _long _wait. But the good thing is this is a set up for a nearly chapter long battle sequence. I'm gona try to squeeze everybody's character in there these next few chapters.

Reviews are welcome. Also I know its short right now, and it is not going to be the longest fanfiction ever, but what I really made this for is a Halo community fanfiction. I want any and all who might want to featured in this fanfiction to submit a description of what they want their character to be and what its name will be in a review. I will work them in as I see fit. Also: I reserve the right to kill off your character at any time. Its not any thing personal, this shouldn't come as too much of a spoiler, but this is about the destruction of a planet; people are gona die, but not everyone...will you one of the lucky ones?

If your are wondering, there are still a few character slots open, it's a little late, so no guarantee you'll get in. but I'll try my best.


	10. Chapter X

Chapter X

The rockets had hit their mark perfectly. The rockets ripped through the open entrance bay of the Seraph fighter. A short pause and another set of twin 102 millimeter shaped charges obliterated two banshees. Then the last two rockets found their mark on the remaining two banshees.

"Go, go, go!" Someone yelled. Though the night was dark and there Jericho III had no moon, the sniper contrails could be seen. The crack of the S2's was faint at best, the snipers range was extraordinary. It they had only moved a twenty meters before the Covenant started returning fire. Plasma and lead cut the air into pieces. Everyone dropped to the ground, lying prone weapons blazing at the general direction of the Covenant.

Suddenly, the Seraph fighter, which had been burning from the internal rocket hits, exploded. The main plasma reactor had overloaded and turned the ship into a giant fragmentation grenade. Carol's ears rang with the reverberation of the explosion. The crossfire stopped on both sides for just a second while they shook off the shell shock.

An ear piercing whistle cut across the sky just as the world was coming back into focus. Though he'd never heard the sound up close before, he knew what it was: a Banshee in flight. There was probably more than one, but with the fog of war Carol couldn't tell for sure.

He looked back to check his flanks, a choice he'd regret the rest of his life; for there, 20 meters away "Buck" was fighting a with an Elite. They'd both ran out of ammo and were fighting it out hand to hand. Buck brought a strong punch to the alien's lower left mandible, hard enough to stun it but it gave it a second to reach for it plasma sword; Carol nearly vomited as he watched the blade slice through his short term friend.

Quickly the Elite tuned his attention to Carol. Panic began to wash over Carol, He emptied the 60 round mag of his M7 but it did nothing to stop the alien. As he fumbled for his magnum Carol also braced for death.

To his salvation and surprise a 30mm round cut into the Elite. Blue-purple blood splashed across Carol's face; he wondered what had happened. As he glanced around, he noticed that the sky held two Sparrowhawks as well as a dozen or so Banshees. That must have been where the 30 millimeter had come from. Carol hoped that the Sparrowhawks could give him the upper hand.

He sprinted for the museum stairs near the entrance. Several of his fellow guerrilla fighters were there, firing at the Covenant troops who vastly out numbered them. Carol slapped a new magazine into his weapon and let loose a barely aimed ten round burst at the Covenant to his front.

Plasma hissed and gunfire echoed, the air became hot and hard to breathe; the fog of war had truly set in, and it was thick. In the predawn sky above an air battle raged on that seemed massive, but Carol couldn't tell; he was so dazed that it could have been just two ships fighting. A blue glowing ball of plasma was hurdled out from inside the museum, Carol knew what it was: a grenade.

"Run." Somebody yelled. And everyone did. The grenade blew and released a blinding arc and flash as well as deafening noise and a forceful overpressure. Carol had a true case of shell shock: every thing seemed slow motion and what sound he could hear was distorted. He could make out the clatter of gunfire and the whine of plasma, but not in the same places as before, the groups had broken out of their preverbal trenches and started a guerilla war.

Some flaming mass of metal fell from the sky; it was indistinguishable if it human or Covenant but it landed on the museum entrance and killed several Covenant. Carol realized that this distracted the Covenant for a second as they reevaluated their options; and this short, less than a second question in the Covenant mind was just the break they needed.

"Follow me!" He said waving his hands in a motion that meant the same. As he started to sprint the others followed, and in short time so did the Covenant they'd been fighting. Luckily, a Pelican gunship, what Carol would later find out was the last one to leave HAFB, saw the fight. It tossed in a volley of rockets and 50 mil rounds toward the aliens and then landed. Carol ran toward the hovering craft and hopped in. He helped Dakota up into the hold as well. In short order followed Russell who was carrying Steph's unconscious body like a sack of potatoes across his left shoulder. He was armed only with a Covenant plasma pistol and he looked like he had been through hell and back several times, as he well should. A person Carol had not paid much attention to came running up: Will Kaiser. He toted an MA5B in his right hand and in his left hand was the infamous glimmer and jingle of dog tags taken from bodies. Carol had been yet to determine if he was military or not, but he wore dull green pants and shirt. Irene was the last person who ever got on that cramped drop ship not counting the body of the 16 year old boy she was dragging with her; he appeared not to be alive, and he was covered in blood from both sides. It looked as if he had burped up a bubble of blood as people do as they die from a traumatic injury. As Carol helped to pull him up, Mark's watch fell of his wrist, once the body was inside Carol put the watch in the pocket same as the Mossberg plate and June's necklace. He would later take one of the duplicate dog tags off the all the necklaces and keep them as well, all to remember this fateful fight.

The turret set up in the back was blaring one long song of deep thuds of gunfire and the clinks of brass on titanium floor. The pilot yelled for everyone to hold on as the ship flew away from the plasma blasts and the aliens seemed to get smaller and smaller. Once at the edge of the breathable atmosphere, the back door of the Pelican closed airtight. While the chance of something going wrong was still great, it was all now out of Carol's control; for the first time since the invasion began, Carol could almost relax. But he knew that the planet would surly be glassed, and he wondered what ever happened to that crystal the Covies had been after. But that would all have to be pushed to a far corner of his mind, as there was nothing to do about it. While Carol had always wanted a simple existence, far from the war, farming like his grandparents, something told him that by getting on this drop ship he'd volunteered to fight on the front lines. But he was never truly sure.

"What'll happen now?" Dakota asked. Her hair was especially caked with blood, and her clothes were stained with it, and everyone in the drop ship, even the two dozen people that had been on before Carol and his comrades, was covered in blue, red, green and dried black blood.

Carol had never been too religious, but he answered "God only knows." Dakota sighed as she laid her head on Carol's shoulder, held his hand, and began to drift off to sleep. Carol wanted to sleep, but knew he couldn't even if he tried, too much consumed his mind, so he simply lay his head on top of Dakota's and closed his eyes, wide awake, asking himself unanswerable questions, the most recurrent being "Why?"

Authors Notes:

Da, da our story ends here, or does it. With this being one of the best received stories I've written, I am highly considering a sequel, but if the public opinion is that I should leave the ending up to the reader, than I'll do that just as well; a little like Gears of War did. Any way, I'm still not calling this complete just yet, as I may add a little here and there, and with proof reading I'll surely catch some minor errors, kind of like the directors cut of a movie. But I won't do anything to change the story line or anything drastic like that. Give me your feedback and just tell me the good the bad and whatever else you feel the story could use. And If a Jericho III 2 is approved, then I might just post a little preview right here as a epilogue chapter of this story. ; ) Adiós.


	11. Chapter XI

Chapter XI

Carroll came back to reality with a jolt. He had never slept, but he had let his mind wander to a daydream. The drab interior of the pelican felt a darker grey here, the titanium seemed covered in an intangible soot of some sort. The jets created small pools of jet wash as they slowed the Pelican's decent into the landing bay of the _UNSCDFS Liverpool_ gently setting it down, slowly descending, then, the last half meter, the jets seemed to give out and the Pelican sat down with a gut wrenching shake and a series of clunks and clanks that while dull, were still very loud and hurt the deck crews eardrums.

The door to the Pelican opened with a hiss and a metal on metal screech, as if it had not been lubricated in years. The battered refugees slowly stood up, their minds as bashed and beaten, if not more bashed and beaten then their bodies. Like driven cattle to the slaughter they made their way to the landing deck of the ship.

Navy men handed out firstly blankets, then canteens of water. Carroll and Dakota stood side by side, hand in hand, wondering what would happen next. Their home, their planet, their family, everything, yet, they had found refuge only with each other.

"People of Jericho Three," began a tall, well-defined, but not overly muscular man in a pristine white naval officers uniform, "Welcome aboard the _UNSCDFS Liverpool_, we're on our way to Reach." The medals on his breast rattled ever so slightly as he spoke in his deep voice.


End file.
